Sunday, April 23, 2006

Same as it ever was...

I sit here, in my friend's house upstate, drunk, and listening to music on my headphones, staring at the ceiling.  And I recall, times in my youth, not necessarily drunk, but listening to music, staring at the ceiling.  First Depeche Mode and A-Ha.  Then Barber's Adagio for Strings and The Righteous Brother's song that was used in Ghost.  Then Orff's Carmina Burana.  Then Barber's Prayers for Kierkegaard.  Then Paula Cole's Ordinary.  Then Elvis Costello's It's Time.  Then a lot of angry girls.  Then Curve.  Then it was Earth, Wind and Fire's After the Love Has Gone.  Then it was Ludo.  But now it's Ludo's new tune, Save Our City (it's not a direct link, but get over it).  You should all listen to it.  It sums up about everything that I like about real rock.  Anthem, melody, chromatic knowledge and beats from God.  I seriously might just move out to St. Louis and TRY to open for these guys.  Because they know where it's at.  They have true musical knowhow and they have fun while they are superior to all (without thinking they're superior at all).  Any band that would make you thrash privately in ways that would embarrass you publicly is a worthy band in my book.  I feel like I'm 16 again.  And just as depressed.

And, by the way, anyone who's waiting for me to comment on recent events... I'm still waiting to get a handle on them.  Needless to say, I'm a bit lost, of my own doing, but I made the best decision I could, I think, for both of us.  I hope the world is a better place than he thinks it is.  He definitely is better than he will ever believe he is.  I wish I could change that, but that is not my gift to give.  Good night, and good luck.

Friday, April 07, 2006

I think

I'm a different girl now.  Woman.  Whatever.  Too hard to explain, or perhaps inexplicable.  However, I feel I some sort of change has come over me.  Maybe I've been listening to too much Garbage.  But I can't help but feel that I'm not myself, but somehow a different self.  I need time to work it out.  Or maybe time itself will work it out.  But I'm not who I was anymore.  I need time away.  Time to write, to record.  Time to myself.  Time to my self.

Change sucks.  It leaves damage and victims.  What's the price of growing old?  What's the price of growing, knowing how many people get left behind in the wake?  When you're faced with a choice, is it a foregone conclusion that your decision is the right one?  Because I have definitely made a lot of bad ones and I don't want to have to take that risk anymore.  Yet, obviously, that's a very naive point of view.

Maybe it's easier to fuck it all up.  If that's what you're familiar with, it's not a blind spot.  And one has to be good at something.